Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition
by shellyskelly
Summary: My first fic. The Basterds meet a young American she-soldier of sorts. Hugo/oc. I only own Daphne McGee and any other unfamiliar characters.
1. Chapter 1

"A basterd's work is never done." Lt. Aldo Raine gripes, fidgeting in his makeshift seat that is an empty crate in the back of a military truck. He reaches in his pocket, fishing for what is left of his stogie. He wedges the cigar between his teeth, lighting it with a matchstick and scans the faces of the other Basterds, all looking quite agitated to be bouncing around the back of a truck.

They were on their way to an American military base hidden deep in the wooded countryside of France to meet with a soldier of sorts. An apparent professional in special ops and can be described by superiors as unconventional. Well, that's exactly what the Basterds are all about… Being unconventional. This is all they know… All but Raine who has been keeping all the sticky little details to himself…

Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz eyes his leader through a cloud of cigarette smoke, scowling as the truck hits a pothole. All he knows is the bare minimum Aldo spat at them this morning as they piled into the back of the truck. Hard enough for him to trust people on a normal day, Stiglitz is not too keen on the game plan.

After a good hour of riding around, Stiglitz can't keep his frustration in any longer. "So who is this soldier?" His German accent is thick and muffled by the sound of the truck rattling.

Aldo cocks his brow at his German cohort. He chews on the end of his cigar, thinking about how to answer before speaking. "Well…" He looks at the group of men staring at him expectantly. _Might as well spill the beans, they're going to find out eventually._ "First off, I'd like to say that she came highly recommended." He pauses, waiting for their reaction.

"She?" Donny Donowitz exclaims, unsure if he heard correctly.

"You're kidding… Right?" Utivich scoffs.

"Her name is Daphne McGee…" Aldo begins.

"A woman?" Hugo swears under his breath. Coming all this way for a woman?

"Now, nothin' set in stone." Aldo raises his voice over the small commotion. "We're just going to check things out… See what's what…"

"But who is she?" Donowitz pries.

"She is one of the best in the business." Aldo states, signaling it the end of the conversation.

As soon as the truck comes to a screeching stop, they are hustled into a garage, bustling with soldiers working on military vehicles and the likes. A burly commanding officer stalks up, eyeing up with Basterds in amusement.

"Lt. Raine, I presume?" The officer extends a hand.

Aldo glances down at the hand before extending his own and gripping it tightly. "You must be Col. Johns." Aldo gestures to the group of men behind him. "These are the Basterds."

Johns leans to look around Aldo at the motley crew and smirks. "I believe you are here to meet our girl, McGee." Hugo snorts at this.

"I'm sorry, soldier. Did I say something to amuse you?" Johns cocks a brow at the barrel-chested German.

"What kind of soldier is a woman?" Stiglitz meets the eye of the Colonel.

"She's not a soldier so much as… A machine." Johns begins. "Her father was an American General. She was born and raised on bases, an Army brat if I ever saw one. Without her mamma around, the General raised her as a boy." Johns walks as he talks, leading the Basterds further into the garage towards a tank, currently being worked on by a welder. "She's small, she's quick, she's damn good with a gun…" He pauses to look up at the welder. "McGee!" Johns hollers over the noise of the blowtorch.

The welder halts, switching off the torch, stands and turns to face the men. The form of the welder is petite under the heavy jumpsuit, smeared with grease. Hugo eyes this mystery welder as it climbs from the tank, throwing down thick welding gloves. The welder couldn't be more than five and a half feet tall, a head shorter than most of the men milling about.

"Gentlemen, may I introduce to you, Daphne McGee."


	2. Chapter 2

"Gentlemen, may I introduce to you, Daphne McGee."

I lift the visor of my welding helmet and look up at the group of men before me. So these are the infamous Basterds everyone's been in a tizzy about? I eye up the man in front who has thrust a hand my way. His light hair slicked back, a thin, Clark Gable mustache on his upper lip.

"Lt. Aldo Raine. It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Aldo eyes the little pixie of a girl in front of him as she shakes his hand, matching his grip. She can't be any older than twenty, twenty-one maybe, but she has a fire behind her hooded blue eyes.

"Aldo the Apache?" I ask as I throw down my welding mask, letting my dark locks free. He nods in reply. "You're awful pale for a native man." I tease. I dig in the pocket of my jumpsuit for my pack of cigarettes. I notice a large, soldier staring me down. His hair is dark blonde and cropped short, jaw line chiseled with a distinct cleft in his chin. He isn't the tallest of men, five inches bigger than me at the most, but stocky as a mother fucker with a wicked scowl plastered across his face.

Hugo watches as she nestles a cigarette between her cupid bow lips. She runs a hand through her shaggy, chocolate locks as they tumble to her collarbone. They fall in heavy, lion mane-esque waves. The boys are definitely intrigued by her, her looks, and her sarcastic tongue. She is not like a typical woman, considering the last women they saw were Parisian ladies, hair done up in victory rolls or finger waves, wearing full skirts, pantyhose, pumps, the whole proper lady deal, faces made up in the finest cosmetics. This girl's face was bare except for a smudge of motor oil on her left cheek and a spray of light freckles across her nose.

"Well, ma'am, you are not exactly what we expected either." Aldo's southern drawl, snaps Hugo out of his thoughts.

"What were you really expecting?" I shrug, lighting my cigarette. "Now, I trust you boys are busy, as am I, so…" I turn to Johns.

"Let's get started then." Johns leads us out of the garage and to his office. We all sit around a glossy oak table; I end up directly across from the mean looking soldier who I've learned is Hugo Stiglitz from a jumble of introductions on the walk from the garage. If looks could kill, his would definitely put me in the grave. It doesn't bother me too much. I'm used to the jeers. I'm a woman in a man's world.

Aldo explains in his southern charming way his and the Basterds work and where I might fit in. Johns explains how I may be of benefit. With all these "mights" and "maybes" being thrown around, I decide to speak up.

"Uh…" All eyes turn to me. I take a breath to gather my words. "Listen, I don't have time for all these "ifs". Either you want to work with me or you don't, Lieutenant. No disrespect, but I have a long line of people in need of my services and if you don't hit me up, then someone else will." I stamp my cigarette out on the table. "I have a job to get ready for so if we can move things along…" I wait, watching Aldo's face.

"I appreciate your forth right-ness, Miss McGee." He starts. "Now, I hope you can appreciate our hesitance. There's a lot of trust that comes with being a Basterd…"

"Well if it's a matter of trust…" Johns interrupts. "Why don't you keep McGee, here company on her mission tonight?"

"What kind of mission?"

"Ambush." The Basterds are all in my tiny office, huddled around a dented metal desk, staring down at a map I've marked with a red pencil. "We are here." I point to a spot in the middle of the woods I've marked with a star. "If you want to keep your hand, then get it off of my ass." I turn to Donny the Bear Jew Donowitz as he looms behind me. He holds his hands up innocently.

"Move it, yah perv." Aldo snorts, shoving Donny out of the way and taking his place behind me.

I turn back to the map, shaking my head. "There's a Nazi base, here." I point to a red X on the opposite side of the map. "They've started using the back woods routes to transport supplies. It's longer, but they think it's secure." I use my red pencil to draw the exact route. Then I circle a spot just outside the route. "This is the location of an old tunnel that half collapsed. We call it the Rabbit Hole. Tonight, around eighteen hundred, a transport vehicle of provisions will be en route to the German base, passing the Rabbit Hole." I explain.

"And you're going to ambush it?" Aldo pipes up.

"It takes a day for trucks to get from the Rabbit Hole to the German base, so no one will realize it disappeared until late tomorrow. My job is to stop the truck, hide it in the tunnel and guard it until we rendezvous at oh-six hundred."

"Well, it seems like overkill to use all of us to ambush one little truck." Aldo sighs, looking around at his men.

"My thoughts exactly, but seeing as you trusting me all depends on your place in this mission, Mr. Apache, I'd say we are gonna have to be excessive unless you got a better idea." I push past the men, scooping up the map and heading outside to enjoy a cigarette while they decide what the hell they're doing.

Aldo takes another look around the room at his men, waiting for his word. "Well, I have to say I'm impressed with her spunk." The men all chuckle at this, all but Hugo. Aldo cocks his brow at the stony, silent Hugo Stiglitz. "I think one of us should escort Miss McGee on her little ambush, then the rest of us can 'rendezvous' tomorrow morning." The men nod then look around at each other. Who was it going to be?

I walk back in the room and all eyes turn to me. "So what's it gonna be Lieutenant?" I ask.

"I'm gonna send you off with one of my men, and we'll see yah for breakfast." Aldo gives me a smirk.

"So who's the lucky man?" I place my hands on my hips.

All the men look around, waiting for Aldo's answer with bated breath. Aldo, thinking it would be amusing, turns and points to Hugo. "Stiglitz."


	3. Chapter 3

(**note:** anything written in a language other than english i got from google translate so forgive me. if it's in italics that also means it's meant to be in another language)

Aldo, thinking it would be amusing, turns and points to Hugo. "Stiglitz."

Hugo clenches his fists tightly, but his face remains neutral. "_Dumme frau…_" Stupid woman. He mutters in his native German.

"_Dumme kraut._" I retort back, in German, much to his surprise.

The other German tongued Basterd, Wicki, rolls with laughter, "_She's got your number, Hugo._"

Aldo watches the exchange, head cocked to the side. "I take it you speak German then?" He nudges me with an elbow.

"Among other languages." I shrug.

"Good. You two will get along just fine." Aldo exclaims sarcastically, slapping Hugo on the back.

I look up at Stiglitz, his icy blue gaze meeting my own. I'm not thrilled with my new companion, but I guess if I want to be part of the Basterds, it'll have to do. "We leave in an hour." I stalk out of the office and head towards the barracks to prepare. I don't bother to look back at the men piling out of the office. I focus all of my attention on the doorknob of the barracks to keep my temper in check. Of all the self righteous, self-centered chauvinistic men to be sent on this job with, it's the one who seems to think of me as nothing but a bad taste.

I strip out of my jumpsuit and change into my uniform, olive drab high waist pants tucked into combat boots, a drab button up shirt over a white guinea tee, and an old black leather biker jacket. I smile at myself in the mirror, ironically, before heading back outside. I see the Basterds huddling together on a couple of picnic tables outside of the mess hall, smoking and laughing quite raucously. I stalk up to them confidently and they all give me a suggestive grin, all but Stiglitz who pretty much looks through me.

"Well… You're a little Rosie the Riveter, ain't yah?" Aldo looks me up and down, prompting a howl of laughter.

I cross my arms over my chest, slightly amused. I'm used to the jokes, the jeers, and the misogyny.

"Aw, honey, I was just kiddin' around, no harm done." Aldo gives me a sympathetic look.

I cock my brow at him. "You amuse yourself, don't you?" I flash him a smirk.

"Now there's a smile that could break hearts." Donny pipes up.

"Yeah, but there's a piece that could blow someone's heart to bits." Wiki jokes, pointing to the colt .45 strapped to my thigh.

"It gets the job done." I nod.

After a short while, listening to the Basterds and all their Nazi killing stories, Col. Johns walks up, looking quite pleased with his self. "Good to see you all getting acquainted." He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Time to go, McGee." He says in an official voice.

I hop up from the bench, turning to Stiglitz expectantly. "_Kommst du?_" Are you coming? I ask of the German.

Hugo eyes me up before standing. Aldo stands as well, explaining to Johns our new game plan as we walk over to one of the Jeeps on the base.

"And tomorrow morning, me and the Basterds will do the rendezvous-ing." Aldo finishes as we reach the Jeep. He climbs into the passenger seat as Johns takes the driver's side, leaving Stiglitz and I to wedge in the back seat together. Our thighs touch as we slide in. My eyes flick up at his face, but he doesn't react. At least he doesn't shoot me another dirty look.

Johns and Aldo sit in the front, talking boisterously of some gallivanting they had done as Privates, dallying and the likes. Hugo and I sit quietly in the back; occasionally stealing glances at one another as if sizing each other up. I try to cross my legs to become more comfortable but end up wedging myself in a more awkward position. I sigh, agitated.

Hugo watches from the corner of his eyes as Daphne struggles to get comfortable. She is seated behind Johns, a tall man who prefers to drive with his seat all the way back, leaving her little room. Her knees press awkwardly against the back of the driver's seat. Hugo can't help but smirk at the expression on her face as she tries to uncross her legs. The toe of her boot gets caught on Johns' seat belt, tugging it tightly around his neck.

"McGee. Damnit." He chokes.

"Sorry sir." She grunts, dislodging her foot and settling down in her seat. "_Arschloch._" Asshole. She mutters this in German so only Hugo can understand.

I hear Hugo snort, forgetting that he could clearly understand my German. I glance at him to see a bit of a smirk on his face, the first emotion besides disdain to register on his face since I've met him.

Ten minutes later, we come upon the Rabbit Hole. What once was a tunnel connecting the backwoods route to another, is now a half crumbling hole in the side of a hill and our new hiding place. I hop out of the Jeep with Stiglitz close behind. We unload our knapsacks and weapons, an m16 for Stiglitz and a few grenades for me along with my .45.

Aldo leans out of the window giving us a stern look. "Behave you two. Try not to kill each other. Auf Wiedersehen." His twangy accent butchers the German phrase hilariously. He gives us a half a salute before Johns peels out, back towards the base.


	4. Chapter 4

I turn to Stiglitz and he looks down at me expectantly. " They should be coming by in about an hour."

"So what now?" He asks, pulling a cigarette from his breast pocket. I realize this is the first time he has spoken to me in English.

"Ah, so you'll listen to me, huh? A woman?" I tease.

"It's your mission." He shrugs.

"There's a spot in the brush, I've dug out." I point off to a thick bramble. He follows as I wander over to the brush, lifting a branch up enough for him to see the foxhole. "After you." I offer, gesturing for him to climb in.

"Ladies first?" He cocks his brow.

"You really think I'm a lady?" I snort.

He finally crawls in, throwing his bag in before him. He settles in, leaning against his bag, hugging his m16 to his chest. He turns to me, and watches as I sidle up beside him. I lean on my own bag and adjust the brush so I have a clear view of the road.

"Now we wait." I shrug.

Hugo sucks on the last of his cigarette before grinding it out in the dirt. He pushes the branches around a bit so he, too, can see the road. He pulls out another cigarette and lights it. I can't tell if he's in a bad mood or if it's just his face.

I pull my own pack of cigarettes from my jacket and settle in for an awkward hour. After a few minutes of silence, though, I speak up. "So… You don't like me very much." I state, turning to face him. He looks over at me, a slight amusement in his eyes. "Is it because I'm a woman?" I pry.

"A woman has no place in war." He says matter of factly.

"Is it because I'm American?" I ask, jokingly.

He smirks slightly before answering. "I find American women to be very boorish."

"Well I find German men to be very boring." I retort, chuckling. He shoots me a look of exasperation.

"So, tell me…" He pauses to stamp out his second cigarette. "Why would a woman want to be in this life?"

"Why not? Why shouldn't a woman be allowed to fight?" I wait patiently for his answer.

He looks at me, considering his words for a moment. "It's not a woman's job… But maybe you are just as well living a man's life." He shrugs. I know he is saying this to get under my skin… To bait me…

"Okay. I'll bite… What do you mean by that?" I chew on the end of my cigarette, having burnt out a few moments ago.

"You don't even look like a woman." He teases, though his tone is serious.

I look down at myself. "I'll have you know that I clean up pretty well." I snort, not letting his jabs bring me down.

"Is that right?"

"That is right. You know, I have quite a few successful undercover operations under my belt… But it helps to have nice tits… Gestapo are too busy staring at my rack to notice I'm packing heat." I wiggle my brow at him suggestively. He doesn't look amused. I titter at his reaction.

At six-oh-five, the sound of a truck rattling down the road catches my attention. "Show time." I mutter. Stiglitz watches me for any direction. I sit up on my toes, pull my gun from the holster and wait until the truck is in view. With a steady hand and a steady eye, I aim the gun at the back tire and take my shot.

The back tire of the truck blows out with the hit of the bullet. The truck lurches and swerves to a stop. I hold my breath, keeping quiet and listening before I make my next move. The driver side door swings open and out hops a Nazi soldier along with a stream of German swears. From what I can tell there are two soldiers total. The other is waiting in the passenger side, patiently.

I creep from the brush, grasping my gun tightly, finger on the trigger. I point to the truck to signal for Hugo to watch the Nazi passenger as I sneak up on the soldier crouched by the tire. When I am within arms reach of the soldier, I press the barrel of my gun to the back of his head.

"Don't make a sound." I cock the gun. The soldier whimpers at the click. He tries to mutter something. I repeat myself in German. "_Don't make a sound… Or I will blow your Nazi brains all over the back tire. Understand?"_ He nods. _"Stand up."_ I order. He obliges. I grip the collar of his uniform, pressing the gun harder into his head.

I shove him up against the truck and glance at Hugo who is waiting by the door, gun at the ready. I give him a nod and watch as he knocks on the passenger side door, waits for the soldier to open the door, and opens fire on the unsuspecting lad.

"Do you want that to happen to you?" I ask, he doesn't answer. "Come on, soldier, I know you understand me. Sprechen sie Englisch? Right?" I wait for the man to give in and nod.

"Tell me what's in the truck or my large friend here will go absolutely ape shit on your ass." I gesture to Hugo who brandishes his m16, a fiendish smirk on his face.

"M-medical supplies." The soldier's voice trembles.

"Anything else?" I dig the gun into his scalp, causing him to grunt in pain.

"Food."

"Anything else?" I ask once more.

"No! I swear… That's it." He trembles beneath my grasp, which makes me giggle lightly. A man, a Nazi is afraid of me, a little girl.

"Ok…" I pull him away from the truck. "Walk." I state and shove him down the road a ways.

Hugo watches as Daphne pushes the Nazi down the road. He has to admit he is impressed with her prowess. He rests his rifle on his shoulder and waits.

When we are about a hundred feet or so away from the truck, I shove the soldier to his knees. "Are you a God fearing man?" I ask as I walk around him so I can look into his face. "Did you hear me?"

"Ja." He nods.

"So… Are you?" I place one hand on my hip, while keeping my gun aimed at his head.

"Ja… Yes." He nods again.

"Good." I grumble. "Now… I want you to close your eyes… And open your mouth."

"What?" The soldier stares up at me, confusion in his eyes.

"Eyes, closed… Mouth, open… Now." I press the gun to his forehead. After another moment of shock, the soldier final squeezes his eyes shut and opens his mouth a bit. "Wider." I use the barrel of the gun to pry his mouth open more. "If you move, I will shove this gun into your eye and pull the trigger."

He stiffens up, trying to remain as still as possible. I reach into my jacket pocket, pull out a grenade and roll it around in my palm. "I want you to pray to your God. Though I don't think it'll do any good where you're going." I shove the grenade in his mouth, amused when he gags a little. I reholster my gun, say my goodbyes to the soldier and pull the pin before jogging back towards Hugo and the truck.

Hugo watches as Daphne jogs back, leaving the Nazi back down the road on his knees. He is intrigued as to what was going to happen next. He shifts his weight from one foot to another and a second later…

Boom.

The grenade goes off, blowing the Nazi to bits. Even though I was expecting it, it still makes me jump a little. I look over my shoulder to see scattered limbs falling to the ground; a booted foot lands a couple of feet away from me. I turn back to Hugo who jumped slightly as well.

"I love my job." I exclaim. Hugo actually laughs at this, a genuine belly laugh. It actually has a nice sound to it. "Still think a woman doesn't belong in this life?"

"You are no woman." He shakes his head.

"Then what am I, pray tell?" I look up at him defiantly.

"A machine." He snorts. I chuckle. It's not the first time I've been compared as such.

"Come on, big boy… The job's not over yet." I say, climbing into the driver's side of the truck. "Get this guy off the road." I grunt, shoving the passenger body out of the truck.

Hugo looks down at the body as it falls from the truck, then up to Daphne who gives him a little wave. He lugs the body by the foot into the brush, and then crouches to get its scalp as a sign of good faith for Aldo.

I turn the key and the truck engine comes to life. I throw it into reverse, backing up past the Rabbit Hole, throw it into drive and pull it into the tunnel just far enough that it would be hidden in the shadow. I hop out of the truck as Hugo walks out of the brush having gotten rid of the body. He holds up the scalp like a proud cat with a dead bird gift for master.

"Now we wait until morning?" He asks, shoving the scalp into a pouch on his belt.

"Yeah, but not here. There's a good spot above the hole." I explain. Hugo pulls our packs from foxhole we had been in before, and hands my pack over to me. I lead him up the hill, up onto the tunnel to a nook that sits just behind to wall of the tunnel that backs up to a grassy knoll, hidden by a large boulder that over hangs, giving protection from the elements. It's safe and gives a good view of the ground below. We nestle in, getting comfortable for the long, eleven and a half hours ahead.


	5. Chapter 5

Hugo lights a cigarette and, surprisingly, offers one to me, which I take, gratefully. We sit quietly, smoking, pondering…

"So, Hugo…" I begin. He glances over. "Am I trustworthy enough for you?"

He looks at me, looking me up and down. " You make a good soldier." He says sincerely.

"Danke." I smirk. "But would you trust me?"

"Would you trust me?" He asks back.

"You've given me no reason to… You've belittled me from the get go… But for some reason… Ja. I would trust you." I scratch the back of my neck and eye the burning red end of my cigarette, glowing as the sunsets quickly.

"I trust you." He finally concedes.

"So where do you stand on the Irish?" I cock my brow.

"What?" He looks at me curiously.

I reach into the inside pocket of my leather jacket and pull out a flask. "Irish whiskey… You a fan?" I unscrew the top and take a swig, then offer it to Stiglitz. He eyes it before snatching it away from me and taking a hearty swig. He passes it back and I store it back in my jacket.

"You are an interesting breed, McGee." He leans back into the knoll, placing his hands behind his head to rest.

"I could say the same to you." I mimic position, resting in the grass.

"What do you mean by that?" He shoots me a questioning glare.

I pull my flask out again, taking another sip before speaking. "Oh, I've heard all about you, Hugo Stiglitz." I hand him the flask, which he takes happily. "You killed thirteen officers and were sentenced to death before being recruited by the Basterds… You are…" I pause to think of the right word. "Infamous."

"And you are not?" Hugo snorts, taking a third drink from the flask before returning it to Daphne's hand.

"Oh, in familiar company I am quite infamous…" I consider. "But, tell me… Before today, had you ever heard of me?"

"I can't say that I have." He shrugs. He doesn't think twice about it, he was usually too involved with his current Nazi killing business to pay attention to the dallying of other soldiers… Unless it affected him directly, that is.

"It's because I'm a woman." I state matter of factly. "I mean, people compare me to a machine all the time… But I'm more like a ghost." I fiddle with the lid of the flask as I speak. "My exploits have made it in to the papers, but never my name. I'll never get the recognition… Not that it's really important, but your name strikes fear in the heart of Germany… When this is all over, not even the history books will have heard of Daphne McGee." I shrug.

Hugo studies Daphne's face in the waning light, her fair skin stark against darkness of twilight. He focuses in on a dark smudge of dirt that spans across the right side of her jaw. He reaches out his middle and index fingers to her face and wipes at the dirt. Her head snaps in his direction questioningly.

"You are filthy." He states, wiping his two fingers over her jaw again, a little roughly.

I swat his hand away. "Psh." I hiss and he only chuckles at me in response. I wipe the back of my hand over my cheek, no doubt smearing the dirt.

Too soon, we burn through the flask full of whiskey. My tongue feels thick and my head feels light. The forest is completely dark now, only the light of our cigarettes and a few stars dotting the skies are aglow. Our conversation turns from work to childhood. From hours spent huddled in a hole or having shared in a healthy amount of whiskey, Hugo allows himself to be more comfortable with me and asks more personal questions.

"So you were born in America?" His accent becomes thicker with inebriation.

"Yes… I was born on base at Ft. Knox, but we didn't stay there very long." I lay my head rest on my arm as I lean on my side, facing my mission companion.

"Where did you go from there?" He kicks his feet up on the low wall of the tunnel we are hidden behind.

"Stuttgart. That's where I learned German. We stayed there until I was seven. Then we bounced from living on base there to different locations in France, Italy, and even a brief stint living in Hungary before returning to Ft. Knox for three years before the war started." I've lived quite the life for a girl of merely twenty.

"What happened to you once the war started?"

"Well, I was seventeen at the time…" I begin.

"So how old are you now?" He perks up.

"Twenty." I state, and wait for his reaction.

"You are a child." Hugo huffs. It makes me giggle a little.

"Can I finish my story?" I shove his shoulder playfully.

"Ja." He grants.

"Anyway… We came back to Stuttgart and I worked on base as a welder until I turned eighteen when I was allowed formal training… I say 'formal' because my dad had been training me in combat since I was little." I explain. "Now, two years later, here I am… And here you are, Hugo Stiglitz."

"And where is your father?" Hugo asks.

"Hmm." I hum quietly, there is a tugging at my hear strings. "About nine months back, he was on a mission to help transport Jews over the borders out of Germany. He had a truck full of Jewish families and was almost in to Switzerland when he was stopped." I pause, my eyes well with tears. I blink them away, not willing to cry. I am a soldier at war, and shit happens… But sometimes I can't help but be a little bitter and feel like that little girl who lost the only family she ever had in the world.

Hugo waits for her to finish, but he can guess the ending. It was the same abrupt ending that came to countless other soldiers in this war. It's sort of nice to see her act like a human rather than the machine she had turned herself in to, but now knowing that Nazis killed her only family… She has just as much reason to join the Basterds as any other man… Just as much vengeance on her mind…

"So what about you, Sergeant? You have any family waiting for you once the war is over?" I try to get the conversation off of me. Shadows dance across his chiseled features as he lights another cigarette.

"None to speak of." He states firmly.

I dig my hand into my pants pocket, pulling out my father's old pocket watch and use a match to light the clock face. "Twenty-four hundred." I sigh. Six more hours left sitting in a hole. Luckily my company has proven entertaining enough. "You can sleep a while if you want." I offer to Hugo who has grown quiet.

"Nein." He sighs. "I am fine."

"When I'm by myself on these missions, I usually sing to keep myself occupied." I chew on my lip, wondering if it would bother him.

"I don't mind." He replies quietly.

I take a breath before breaking out into the song my father used to sing to me when I was small. "Children, have you ever met the boogeyman before? No, of course you haven't for you're much too good, I'm sure. Don't you be afraid of him if he should visit you. He's a great big coward, so I'll tell you what to do.

Hush, hush, hush, here comes the boogeyman. Don't let him get too close to you. He'll catch you if he can. Just pretend that you're a crocodile, and you will find that boogeyman will run away a mile."

Hugo finds that the sound of her voice is lulling him to sleep. She has a heady quality to her voice that he quite enjoys. Before long, his head drops back onto his bag and his eyelids grow too heavy for him to keep open.

I finish my song and sigh happily. That song always improves my mood. After a moment of silence, I realize that my German cohort is sleeping soundly. I can hear his deep, steady breaths of a light snore. I light a match and hold it to his face. He looks peaceful; mouth parted ever so slightly, muscles in his jaw completely relaxed.

I stare into his sleeping face until the match burns down and scorches my fingertips. "Scheiβe." I swear under my breath, careful not to wake the sleeping bear of a man beside me.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun just begins to burn the horizon alight around five thirty in the morning. A line of pink glow signals the rising of the sun. Hugo is still sleeping, but seeing as we will be rendezvousing in a half an hour, I venture to wake him up.

I nudge his shoulder lightly, but he doesn't stir in the slightest. Sighing, and hoping he isn't one to wake violently, I grip his arm and give him a little shake. "Hugo. _Aufwachen. _Wake up, you stupid kraut."

He wakes with a start, looking up at me, confusion staining his face. "What time is it?" He groans.

"Oh-five-thirty." I sit back on my toes and dig through my bag for a new pack of cigarettes.

"Why did you let me sleep so long?" He gripes, reaching for his own pack. He swears audibly when he finds he has run out.

I light up one cigarette and hand it to him, figuring he'd be more pleasant after a morning smoke.

"Danke." He nods, inhaling a puff of smoke.

"I let you sleep because you are easier to get along with that way." I give him a smirk while lighting another cigarette for myself.

He turns and cocks a brow at me, amused. "You are exhausting."

The cornflower sky is alight as the sun climbs higher and a heavy coat of mist floats around the ground, giving the woods an ethereal feel. When six o'clock draws closer, we crawl out of our little nook and climb down to the road. I stretch my legs happily and rub my backside, which has long since gone numb.

Though, I'd never admit it, I am quite happy when Aldo and the rest of the Basterds roll up in an American military truck. They look a little more than thrilled to see me, giving me suggestive smiles.

Aldo stalks up first. "Hope you didn't wear out my boy, Stiglitz, too much." He claps a hand down on my shoulder, laughing to himself. "Did he behave for you?" He glances over to Hugo whose face has gone back to stoic.

I look Hugo up and down before turning back to Aldo. "He's a bit of a prick." I state matter of factly. "But he was a good sport."

"Alright boys, let's get this truck loaded and get on out of here." Aldo orders and the Basterds get to work on moving the goods from the truck in the tunnel to the one idling on the road.

They get everything loaded rather quickly and we all pile in the truck to make our way back to the base. Aldo, Donny and Utivich all squeeze in the front seat together while the rest of us climb in the back, sitting on crates.

I end up sitting between Ulmer and Wicki, across from Hugo whose face has turned sour. Sleeping in a hole in the ground will put you in a bad mood. I want to tell him to buck up, but I don't think he'd appreciate the sarcasm in front of the other Basterds. He doesn't seem like the type to enjoy being emasculated.

"So… Anything interesting happen last night?" Wicki asks, nudging me in the ribs lightly.

"I put a grenade in a Nazis mouth." I look up at him, head tilted to the side. I know it's not what he was asking, but I play dumb.

"That's amazing." Ulmer pipes up, impressed.

"No… I mean…" He looks at Hugo who is ignoring the exchange, then looks back to me and leans in close. "Did you two get 'friendly'?" He says so only I can hear.

"How about you stop beating around the bush, Wicki." I say loud enough to catch Hugo's attention. His head snaps in my direction.

Instead, Wicki turns to Hugo and asks in German, "_Did you v_ö_geln?_" He's asking if we fucked. My eyes grow wide as red blooms across Hugo's cheeks.

He answers in low voice. "_Dummkopf." _Idiot.

"Calm down, Stiglitz. I was only pulling your leg." Wicki holds up his hands innocently and chuckles.

Hugo shakes his head at Wicki's heckles. He glances over at Daphne who looks half-exasperated, half-amused at the exchange. He clenches his fists as Wicki continues to chortle lightly.

I am happy to reach my modest room in the barracks and strip down quickly, discarding my clothes in a heap as I head to the shower. The hot water on my skin relaxes every muscle one by one and I moan happily. I scrub off the layers of dirt and watch the jumble of soap bubbles and mud swirl away down the drain. Once I am scrubbed raw and perfectly pruned, I hop out of the shower and jump into bed for a well-deserved nap.

Hugo stalks into his assigned room, throwing his bag down, and heads into the small bathroom. He is happy to find a shower stall because life as a Basterd doesn't warrant many proper showers. He strips off his uniform, folding each article of clothing neatly and stacks them in a corner to be washed later. He steps into the stall and turns the hot and cold knobs until he finds a comfortable temperature. Once the room is full of steam, he sniffs the bar of soap before scrubbing away at his body and hair. A few minutes later, he finds himself sufficiently clean and shuts off the water. He pads across the concrete floor into the small bedroom and eyes up the bed. Granted, he did get a good five hours rest in the woods, but it's been ages since he's slept in a bed, and so he opts for another few hours of sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

When I wake up, it's around noon. My stomach growls, it aches for a real meal. I hop out of bed and dress quickly in a clean enough jumpsuit, give my bed head hair a toss and head out to the mess hall in search of food.

I throw open the door to the mess hall and walk straightaway to the lunch line. I grab a metal tray and help myself to a ham and cheese sandwich, a bowlful of tomato soup and two pudding cups. After grabbing some silverware, I wander out into the dining area, scanning the room for a place to sit. I spot Lt. Aldo and Donowitz sitting and a nearly empty table in the corner and opt to sit with them.

I plop down directly next the Aldo who grins at me. Donny gives me a wink. I take a large bite from my sandwich, the two men watch, intrigued.

"Now that's a real woman." Donny snorts.

"Blow me." I say through a mouthful of ham, cheese and bread.

Aldo titters at me. "You're a real spit fire, McGee."

Ignoring them, I finish my bite and start up a new conversation. "So did Stiglitz put in a good word for me?" I ask.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Aldo gestures to the door just as Hugo walks in. Aldo waves him over, directing him to take the seat across from me. "Stiglitz, here actually thinks you would make a good addition to our little club." Aldo explains as Hugo takes his seat.

"Oh yeah?" I smirk at Hugo who nods lightly.

"_You are more a soldier than most men_." He admits in German so only I can understand.

"Danke." I say before shoving a spoonful of chocolate pudding into my mouth.

"What'd he say?" Donny pries, clearly frustrated that he can't understand our German ramblings.

"He said you're a pussy." I state before hopping up and taking my tray to the garbage can. I hear Donowitz begin grumbling at Stiglitz who is laughing as he argues, swearing that I was fibbing.

I go to head out the door and bump into Wicki on the way out. "Hey, comrade." I give him a smirk.

"Hey… I'm glad I bumped into you. The Basterds are throwing a bit of a blow out in the barracks before we all have to head back out." He explains happily.

"I'll be there." I give him a pat on the shoulder before walking towards the garage.

"Oh and McGee?" He calls after me. I turn back to him. "I wanted to congratulate you on becoming one of the boys. Welcome to the Basterds." He says with a flourish.

"Thanks, buddy." I wave. My insides flip flop at my accomplishment. If I am officially in, that means Hugo really did put in a good word for me. I must be growing on the big guy… Like moss on a statue.

As night falls, I notice the boys hauling in some of the stolen Nazi provisions in to the barracks. I poke my head out of my room as they set up tables and set out food and booze and a record player with a stack of forty fives.

I decide to dress more comfortably before partying, so I head back into my room and change into a pair of slim black high waist trousers and an untucked, white tee shirt. I slip my feet into a ratty pair of Chuck Taylor high tops. I tie my hair up in a messy bun, wavy tendrils falling out around my face. By the time I am dressed and ready, the sound of swing music floats through the walls of my room.

I step out into the hall to see a mass of soldiers already pouring themselves drinks. I shove my way to the drink table and after taking a few elbows and stepping on a few feet, I finally pour myself a scotch. I notice I am the only girl, then again, the only other girl's on the base are a couple of French nurses, not the partying types.

I hear Aldo laughing boisterously and follow the sound to his room where he, Stiglitz and Donowitz are huddled around a makeshift table of crates and plywood, playing cards, using cigarettes as chips. Aldo sucks on a fat cigar as he deals, Donny chugs down a bottle of some French beer, and Hugo's back is to the door. I stare at his back for a moment, taking in the sheer size of his broad shoulders.

Donny notices me leaning on the doorway. "Hey there, sweet thing." He calls to me loudly. I notice a small pile of empty bottles by his feet. He is already buzzed.

Aldo's head whips in my direction and he gives me a crooked grin. "Our gal, McGee. Have a seat." His words are muffled by the stogie in his mouth. "Pull up a crate."

Hugo glances over his shoulder at me as I walk in, giving me a nod to acknowledge my presence. I grab a hold of an empty crate propped in the corner and drag it across the floor to settle at the table between Hugo and Donny. I set my glass of scotch on the table and watch as Aldo deals me in.

"The game is five card draw…" He begins. "You know how to play?" He looks up suddenly as if just considering my ignorance to poker.

"Yes…" I reply dryly. He seems to have no problem believing that I am a welding, scotch drinking, sharp shooting woman, but he seems surprised that I actually know how to play poker. He's a strange man that Aldo Raine.

"Right, well…" He begins again. "Minimum is a dime. " He holds up a cigarette from his pile. "This is a dime."

I pull out my own pack of cigarettes and dump them out in front of me. I pick up my hand and am happy about what I've been dealt. I don't show it though. My face remains emotionless. I look around the table at the faces of each of the men. Donny, in his state of slight drunkenness, has a shit-eating grin on his face. Aldo on the other hand, looks perplexed as he stares at his hand, brow furrowed in concentration. Then, my eyes drift over to Hugo who remains stone faced. His eyes flick in my direction and our eyes meet for a brief moment.

"I bet a dime." Aldo announces, throwing in a cigarette. Hugo follows suit and throws in a cigarette of his own, as do I. Donny, after a bit of prompting… And by prompting, I mean that I had to draw his attention from his beer bottle to the game by kicking him under the table... He finally throws in a dime.

"You draw Stiglitz?" Aldo asks. Hugo nods, putting two cards down as Aldo deals him two more. "How about you, McGee?" His southern drawl sounds thick like cream as he speaks, cigar still wedged between his teeth.

"I stand." I reply, perfectly confident with my hand.

"Donowitz?" Aldo asks of Donny who is cracking open another beer.

"Stand." Donny slurs, glancing at his hand casually.

"Dealer draws three." Aldo announces, but doesn't seem anymore pleased with his new cards. "Shit. I fold." He sighs, throwing down his cards.

"I bet thirty." Hugo announces, throwing in three more cigarettes.

"I'll see your thirty." I say nonchalantly. "And raise you, twenty." I look him dead in the eye as I toss in five of my cigarettes.

Donny's eyes flick back and forth between his cards and the pot. "I fold." He shrugs.

"How 'bout it Stiglitz?" Aldo prods.

"Flush." Hugo says, laying down his cards.

"Well McGee?" Aldo taps the table with his knuckle.

I sigh, acting defeated. "Sorry kraut." I lay down my cards. "Four of a kind!" I squeal, happy to have won and scoop my winnings up. "Ha!"

"Damnit." Aldo groans. "Let's play again. I still got plenty of tobacco."

We are on our fourth game and I am on my fourth or fifth stiff drink, feeling quite dizzy between the liquor and the success of my poker playing. "Come one boys. It's like your not even trying." I tease. Hugo has been my greatest challenge, making sweat a little bit.

By this point, I have kicked my shoes off and rolled my sleeves up comfortably. One of Aldo's cigars nestled between my lips as I puff on the cherry flavored tobacco that compliments my scotch so well. Aldo has his uniform shirt half unbuttoned, his normally slicked hair disheveled. Hugo nurses his own drink, eyes glazed over a bit with inebriation. Donny, who's blood has to be more alcohol than plasma at this point, sways on his crate and is at the point of being a bit belligerent.

"So… Daffy…" Donny slurs, leaning on the table, making it shake. "Don't you think you're too pretty for all this?" I can smell the beer seeping from his pores.

"Too pretty for what, Donny?" I say, amused by his new dialogue.

"For war… You're just too pretty for it…" He shrugs. He leans back, almost toppling over his crate.

I can't help but laugh at him, bursting into giggles. Aldo shakes his head, snorting at his very drunk soldier. I look to Hugo who tenses immensely, clenching his jaw as he watches Donny lean in close again.

"I'm serious. Girls like you… One in a million." He inches closer.

"Back off, Donowitz." Hugo growls.

"It's okay. It's just because he's drunk." I shrug. I know how men can get when they drink, especially when women kind are few and far between.

"Yeah, she says it's okay, Stiggy." Donny lays a hand on my forearm.

"Remember what I told you before, Donowitz. If you like that hand, you'll keep it off me." I brush him off, but he tries to creep his arm around my shoulder. Hugo watches like a hawk.

"Aw. You don't mean that, sweet heart." Donny lays a hand on my shoulder, which I smack away quickly. Hugo's face shows great annoyance, which doesn't go unnoticed by Donny. "Oh, what's wrong Stiggy? Got kraut stuck in your craw?"

"Just ignore him." I mutter to Hugo and try to return to the game. "Whose turn was it?" I can't ignore Donny anymore, though, when his hand find his way to my knee and begins creeping upwards.

"Why are you playing hard to get?" Donny grumbles seriously, his drunkenness switching from playful to demanding. Hugo grips his drink tightly.

"Get off of me, Donny." I shove his shoulder. He doesn't like that one bit.

"Why? You got a crush on this fucking Nazi?" Donny spits, face contorted in alcohol-induced anger.

At this, Hugo stands up from his crate quickly. His knee hits the makeshift table, flipping it. Our cards, drinks and cigarette jackpot all go flying to the floor. He begins swearing in German at Donny who has leapt up as well.

"I'm only speaking the truth!" Donny's speech is incredibly slurred as he shouts over Hugo's German. "So you killed thirteen officers? Big fucking deal! How many Jews you kill before that, Hitler?" Donny shoves Hugo back, moving the stony form about an inch.

Hugo swings a thick fist at Donny's jaw, starting an all out fistfight. I look to Aldo who is rolling with laughter at his two drunken soldiers brawling. I hop from my crate, to avoid being stepped on in the middle of this little battle.

"Knock it off!" I try to pull Hugo back with no avail. "Stop! _Aufhalten_!" I throw a punch into Hugo's large bicep, but it does no good. Finally, I just shove my considerably smaller frame between the two men, shoving an elbow into Hugo's gut and planting a foot on Donny's thigh, kicking him away.

"Goddamnit!" I grunt once I finally have broken up the fight. I look to Donny first and, pointing a finger at him, shout. "You're flagged, soldier. Sit the fuck down." Surprisingly, Donny obeys, too drunk to stand anyhow.

Then, I turn to Hugo who is still glaring daggers at Donny. "Sit down, Stiglitz." I demand. He ignores me. "Hugo. _Sitzen_!" I shout, pushing down on his shoulders. He finally obliges, but doesn't take his eyes off of Donny.

I look down at Hugo, a red welt forming just below his left eye where Donny's knuckle had made contact. His eyes finally find my face and I cock a brow at him. That's when I feel a hand reach up and settle on my ass. I whip around to see Donny grinning mischievously. I crank back my arm and throw a right hook into Donny's mouth and watch as he topples ass over end off of his crate.

Aldo howls with laughter when Donny sits back up and we see that I succeeded in splitting his lip. Blood drips down the Bear Jew's chin. "Next time, I cut off your hand." I say matter of factly before leaning down to scoop up a couple of cigarettes off the floor. Turning to Hugo whose face is still flush with anger, I say. "_Kommen_, _you stupid kraut. Let's go have a smoke._"

I wait patiently as Hugo finally concedes, standing, and he stalks out of the room behind me. I lead him outside; the cool French air cuts through my inebriation and raises goose bumps over my arms. I settle on a bench just outside the barracks and Hugo flops down beside me, a look of irritation still plastered across his face.

I hold out a cigarette to him, which he takes and slides between his lips. I flick on my lighter and hold out the flame to him and watch him carefully as he lights up. I light up my own cigarette before venturing to speak. "So… What the hell was that back there?" I nudge Hugo with my elbow.

He looks at me from the corner of his eye but doesn't speak.

"He was just being a drunk asshole." I sigh; smoke furling past my lips.

"I know how he gets when he drinks." He finally speaks, leaning back on the bench, getting comfortable.

"So why pummel the guy?" I snort.

Hugo scratches his chin, considering.

I pipe up again before he can answer. "I'm just messing with you, Hugo. He deserved a good thwack." I chortle lightly.

"Well you did pretty well giving him that… Thwack." Hugo allows his head to fall back as he looks up to the night sky.

"Thwack." I repeat. My head feels fluffy, as I am quite drunk. I look down at my fist to see my knuckle bleeding where Donny's tooth hit when I punched him. It dawns on me that we probably won't remember much of this night come morning.


	8. Chapter 8

[sorry it took me so long to post this chapter... the charger for my laptop took a crap and since i'm broke, it took me a while to get the monies to order a new one and wait for delivery. sorrysorrysorry. x3 i'll post two chapters today to make up for it. ]

In fact, it is morning when I realize how much alcohol I actually consumed. My head pounds with the power of a thousand hangovers. I roll out of bed, the room spinning, and shuffle to the medicine cabinet. I pop about four aspirin and chase it with water from the sink. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my hair still in the bun, but askew on my head. I pull my hair free from the elastic and try to comb through the tangles. I pull on a pair of trousers and a heavy, oversized sweater before venturing out of my room.

Empty bottles and discarded shoes litter the hallway of the barracks. The record player is still playing softly. I step over the sleeping body of a private and stumble outside. The cool air wakes me up a bit and the sunlight taunts me. A slight throbbing in my hand draws my attention. I look down to my knuckle to see a small puncture, which sends a flood of memories from the drunken night prior into my brain… Playing cards… Breaking up a fist fight… Punching Donny in the mouth… Oh yeah.

I flop on a picnic table outside of the mess hall, trying to piece together the rest of the night… Smoking on a bench with Hugo… Then, blackness… Waking up with a killer headache.

"Hey McGee!" I hear the voice of Utivich as he steps out of the mess hall.

"Shh!" I hush him. "Not so loud." I grumble.

"Last I saw you, I had to help you to your room." He chuckles, sitting down beside me.

"So that's how I got there." I nod, happy to have another piece of my night back.

"Yeah… I found you outside the barracks. Stiglitz was passed out on a bench and you asked me to help you to bed." He explains.

"And that's all that happened?" I demand.

"Oh, yeah! I just walked you to your room!" Utivich begins explaining vehemently. "I didn't want to end up like Donowitz." He holds up his hands innocently.

"Good." I give him a smirk, seeing him relax instantly. "So… You heard about... Donny?"

"Aldo's started referring to you as Muscles McGee." He replies, chuckling.

"Fantastic." I sigh. News travels fast on a base.

I tense up as I see Donny walking out of the mess hall with Wicki. He spots me and stalks up to me. I notice his lip is swelled up nicely, a thick scab forming over the split. His face is hardened. I mentally prepare myself for a yelling match as he stomps over.

"I don't know what I did to deserve this!" He exclaims when he is about a foot away. He points to his busted lip and stares me down for a moment before continuing. "But… I'm told I deserved it… So… I'm sorry… For whatever I did." He hold out his hand as I peace offering, which I shake.

"Apology accepted." I nod.

"Thank you… From now on… I'll try to stay on your good side because my face hurts like a motherfucker. You got one hell of a hook." He snorts, sitting down at the bench.

"Well I can't take all the credit for your face." I admit.

"Yeah I heard me and Stiglitz got into it." He sighs. "Do you know how that happened? I asked Aldo and all he does is laugh and walk away."

I chew on my lip, furrowing my brow as I think. I know what happened. Donny was hitting on me like a lecherous creep and Hugo defended my honor in a flurry of drunken German and heavy handed hits. "I don't know. You were both plastered. You called him a Nazi… He said things in German." I shrug.

"Shit." He laughs.

"That has to be the stupidest thing to say to Stig… Ever." Wicki shakes his head.

"So." Utivich pipes up, turning to me. "You ready to be a Basterd?"

"I think I can handle it." I nod.

After a quick breakfast, I head back to the barracks to relax before a meeting with Aldo later in the day. I walk past my room though and find myself outside of Hugo's door. I give the door a couple of quick raps and wait. I press my ear to the door and hear the creaking of bedsprings followed by the sound of two feet hitting the concrete floor heavily. I lean away from the door as the footsteps make their way closer.

Hugo wrenches open the door to see Daphne standing there on the other side, looking up at him with an amused look on her face.

"Guten morgen, sunshine." I smirk up at Hugo. My eyes dart down, realizing he has answered the door shirtless. His dark flaxen hair puffs out every which way. The welt below his eye is still a rosy shade of pink. "You look rough, comrade." I give him a poke in the gut.

"Why do I feel like I've been hit by a truck?" He groans leaning on the doorframe heavily.

"Because you were hit by a Bear Jew." I titter softly. His brows rise quizzically.

"Should I even ask?" He rubs the back of his neck. He squints his eyes, hinting toward a headache.

"Probably not… But I should thank you." I give him a small smile, flashing my dimples.

"For what?" He asks, scratching his chin. I shrug in response before walking off, leaving him wondering.

Hugo watches her walk of before shoving herself into her own room. He leans on the frame, watching the spot where she had been standing for a moment longer before deciding to dress. It's been less than forty-eight hours that she has been in his life, but she seems to mesh well. He agrees that of all women to work alongside the Basterds, none of them could possibly compare to her. She fits in and it's becoming increasingly difficult for him to remember why he was so against the idea.


	9. Chapter 9

Around one in the afternoon I head into Johns' office where Aldo has called a meeting. I am the first to arrive so I lean back in my chair, kicking my feet up on the glossy table. I sing to myself as I wait. "While other girls attend their fav'rite cocktail bar, sipping martinis, munching caviar… There's a girl who's really putting them to shame…"

"Daphne is her name!" I whip around to the sound of Aldo interjecting in my song. He is grinning widely as he leads the rest of the Basterds into the office.

I pull my feet off the table, planting them firmly on the ground as Aldo sits across from me. He has a stack of papers clutched to his chest. Once everyone is seated, Hugo to my left and Ulmer to my right, Aldo begins talking.

"First off, I'd like to congratulate, Miss Daphne McGee here on becoming the first and only woman to impress upon me so much. Welcome to the Basterds." This prompts a mini applause from the boys. "Now, we came to you, in need of your special services…" He begins to explain. I wait quietly as he splays the papers across the table. "Several Nazi soldiers have been stationed in Paris."

I lean in to look over the photos of the Gestapo and files Aldo seemed to have collected on them.

"These boys can be our ticket to infiltrating camps as well as tracking down the commanding officers and maybe even the Führer hisself." He pulls an ever-present cigar from his pocket and lights it up. "I need you and Stiglitz to go in undercover." Hugo perks up; as this is the first time he is hearing this plan.

"Okay…" I nod, waiting to hear more.

Aldo shuffles his papers around until he finds a picture of a Parisian building with notes scribbled over it. "This is the Normandy Hotel where the officers and their families are staying. Stiglitz, you are going to pose as a Nazi officer, and McGee… I need you to be his… companion." He chooses his words carefully.

"And by companion… You mean?" I ask tentatively. I know what he means, but I want him to spell it out anyway.

"His French lover." Aldo shrugs. "You speak French, right?"

"Oui." I nod.

"Great! So… It's a plan." He announces, standing up, signaling the end of the meeting.

Later that night, I sit in my room, freshly showered and begin rolling my hair into pin curls, setting them with bobby pins. As I roll up each curl, I read over the papers, providing my new identity. I am now Cherie LaRue, former artist's model, and daughter of a wealthy banker, Henri LaRue and former dancer, Claudette Bordeaux-LaRue. As Cherie, I am a high society girl that was on break in Amsterdam when I met the industrious Lieutenant Friedrich Kaiser. We have been together since.

Once my hair is completely pinned up, I wrap my head in a bandana to keep them neat. I crouch on the floor and reach under my bed for a beaten old trunk. I pop open the latches, setting free a mass of women's clothing, pantyhose, skirts and high heels that I use for my undercover missions. I dig through until I find my satchel of makeup and lay it out on the sink for the next day. I have to be primped and perfectly Parisian by tomorrow morning at oh-eight hundred. When I realize there is nothing more I can do to prepare this evening, I climb into bed, willing myself to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

(i am a huge douche for not updating sooner. sorry guys. for the longest time i forgot my password AND the email address i used on here and kept trying to send the password to a totally incorrect email address and wondering like a doof why i wasnt getting the email. then i got distracted from the story because i have shiny nickel syndrome and have the attention span of a gnat... but my best friend sweetmonoxide reminded (and nagged) me to update and try to recall my password... turns out, it was the easiest password EVER! so again, sorry it took so long and ill try to update more often. muah!)

Hugo Stiglitz wakes early the next morning to shower and dress in his recently acquired Gestapo uniform. He checks himself in the mirror, despising the reflection of his former Nazi-self staring back. He shakes it off. He is Lieutenant Friedrich Kaiser now. He picks up his bags and heads outside where a car is waiting to be loaded with his and Daphne's supplies for the mission.

"Looking good." Aldo calls over as he walks up to Hugo who is dressed and ready. "She'll be out in a minute, I sent Wicki in to help her with her bags."

As if on cue, Hugo hears the sound of Wicki bursting out of the barracks, hauling a large trunk. Daphne walks out close behind him, making quite an entrance. Her deep, brown locks bounce down over her shoulders in thick, shiny curls. Her eyes are lined with black cat liner and heavy lashes. Her cupid lips are painted a deep cherry red and curled in a coy smile. She walks daintily, legs encased in stockings with a seam up the back, dressed in a curve hugging black pencil skirt and white cotton blouse, buttoned up just enough to flash a little bit of cleavage under a black blazer. She clicks across the concrete in a pair of red pumps. In her left hand, she carries a furry white muff. Hugo's mouth drops open in disbelief.

"Ready, monsieur?" I ask in a perfect French accent when I reach Hugo who is looking quite official in a pressed Gestapo uniform.

"Goddamn, McGee." I hear Aldo exclaim.

"I clean up well, right?" I turn slowly to give them a good look. I can feel of the Basterds' eyes boring into me. After a quick debriefing from Aldo, we climb into the car. Donny offers a hand to help me in, and shuts the door for me, giving me a wink.

The wink from Donny doesn't go unnoticed by Hugo who grips the steering wheel tightly. He gives Aldo a salute before revving the engine and peeling off. He looks to Daphne as she leans back into the leather upholstery, crossing her legs, flashing a little bit of thigh. He snaps his eyes back to the road.

"Do I look like a woman now?" I tease, looking over at Hugo as he navigates the car down the countryside road.

He gives me a side eyed look before replying. "You look harmless now."

"Oh, I'm not harmless… I'm still armed." I chuckle. Hugo glances over and looks me up and down as if trying to figure where in this tight outfit I could stuff a weapon. I hold up my muff and pull out a Derringer pistol.

"So do you have out stories straight?" Hugo sighs.

"Down to business then?" I nod, shoving the pistol back into the muff. "You are Lieutenant Friedrich Kaiser of Berlin. I am Cherie LaRue of Orleans… We met in Amsterdam…" I rattle off. "And you fell helplessly in love with me." I add, joking.

"Is that right?" He cracks a smile for once.

"Of course... I mean, look at me." I gesture to myself.

"You certainly are full of yourself." He snorts.

"Well, I am supposed to be French." I giggle. I settle in for a long, four hour ride into Paris. I look over as Hugo reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a cigarette. I have to admit, in his crisp officer's uniform, he does look quite dapper. "Vous avez l'air beau."

"What?" He peers at me curiously. I forgot that he doesn't speak a word of French.

"I said, 'You look handsome'." I repeat in English.

"Oh." He looks surprised. "And you…" He glances over, cigarette hanging from his mouth. "You don't have dirt on your face for once." He teases.

"I'm taking that as a compliment." I smile to myself.

We roll up on the Normandy Hotel shortly after noon. Hugo steps around the car to open my door for me just like a gentleman should. Several bellhops scurry out and welcome us in French, looking nervous of Hugo in his Nazi uniform. They begin asking us about our bags. Hugo looks to me, confused.

I quickly explain to the bellhops that he doesn't speak French and ask if any of them speak English. "Excusez-moi, mon ami ne parle pas Français. Parlez-vous Anglais?"

"Oui, Mademoiselle." One bellhop speaks up, and then begins speaking to Hugo in English.

Hugo directs them to our bags in the backseat and trunk of the car, and observes them closely as they carry them into the hotel. I stand beside Hugo, quietly and allow him to link his arm in mine and lead me into the lobby.

"Bonjour." The perky lady behind the desk greets us warmly. "Comment allez-vous?"

Hugo shoots me another look and I speak up once more. "Nous sommes trés bien, merci." (We are very well, thank you) I rest my hand on the desk and tell her we are checking in. "Je m'appelle Cherie LaRue, et c'est le Lieutenant Friedrich Kaiser." We wait patiently as the woman looks through her book of reservations, finding our names quickly.

"Ah! Oui." She hands a set of two room keys over to Hugo and orders the bellhops to take us to our suite. Hugo reaches down and takes my hand as we follow the bellhops. He is tense as we make our trek across the lobby to the elevator. I give his hand a squeeze and his body relaxes a little.

Our room is on the top floor, a suite with a King size bed covered in lush goose down pillows and Egyptian cotton sheets, creamy colored damask wall paper, a large mirrored vanity with a tufted wingback chair to sit upon. The bathroom has a large, gilded claw foot tub, large enough for two. It is the most beautiful room I have ever stayed in.

I cross the fluffy carpet to the picture window and rest on the window seat, looking down at the street below and the breathtaking view of the Louvre. I feel Hugo's large hand rest on my shoulder as he comes up behind me. I lay my hand over his, looking up at him and offer him a small smile. We stay at the window together until the bellhops have carried in our entire collection of luggage.

As soon as we are alone, I draw the curtains shut as Hugo locks the door. I kick off my heels and crouch on the floor, throwing open my trunk. Hugo watches me, intrigued. I run my fingers along the edge of the trunk, pulling open a false wall, revealing some heavy artillery. I pull out my colt .45 before shutting up the hidden compartment in the trunk. I carry the colt to the bed and hide it in the bedside table.

I look over to Hugo who has begun unloading his own weapons and hiding them in the dresser. He unpacks our clothing and shoves them over the mass of guns and ammo. Once we are completely settled, I strip off my blazer and sit on the edge of the bed. We look at each other, unsure of what to do next. Our orders are to live as a Nazi soldier and his romantic partner, to blend in, and converse happily with the other soldiers.

"Why don't you rest?" I look to Hugo's who looks exhausted from the drive and the stress of posing as Gestapo.

Hugo eyes the bed, the pillows call to him. He watches as Daphne begins to take off her pencil skirt and blouse, revealing a white slip. She pulls on a silken, floral robe, tying it loosely around her narrow waist. She comes back to the bed and sits on the right side, up by the pillows as she unclips her stockings from a garter belt and rolls them down. She wiggles out of the garter belt and discards it in the drawer of the bedside table.

I notice Hugo watching me closely as he remains at his spot by the dresser. "What's the matter with you?" I pry gently.

"I am just tired." He sighs heavily.

"Well, come sit." I pat the left side of the bed. He finally gives in and perches at the end of the bed. He bends down to remove his boots. I walk around to the end of the bed and offer to help him. "We have to make a believable couple." I remind him and he allows me to help him remove his boots. Then, I pull his jacket off of his shoulders and cross the room to hang it over the chair.

He finally loosens his shirt and lies back in the bed to rest. He even holds open the covers for me as I climb in beside him. I lie back into the pillows and feel the heat radiating off of Hugo's body. Within minutes, I am out like a light.


End file.
